


Bluebells

by wanderlustlover



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Milliways, Robin Hood (BBC 2006), The Ordinary Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: milliways_bar, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:19:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustlover/pseuds/wanderlustlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, this might not be the life that either of them thought they would lead, or end up with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bluebells

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alemara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alemara/gifts).



> Image located on getty, icon cropped by me, and perfect of (the many) The Great AU endings/on-goings. This was a snippet inspired by it. Set in Ambergeldar (in the universe with Milliways), sometime long after Marian's canon (and The Great Adventure) has drawn to a close.

 

  


 

It doesn't take Caspian long to find them. It hasn't for the last two, three, weeks, since the small field burst into life with such color as if the sky itself had come down to dance with the forest floor. Thetwo of them curled up in the very center of it.

His Lady wife, with their youngest son in her lap, and book in her hands, which he was pointing at the present page of with such entranced focus, even if he wasn't yet able to read himself. Marian had been whispering something from it to him, but paused to tap the little face, gently, with a sprig of two blue flowers, eliciting a shrieking laugh of surprise.

There is nothing to her now, of the woman who came here, a heartbroken ghost, three or four years back, but Caspian thinks, there will always be something of a wild, graceful woodland creature.

When, from this far away, at the edge of the glade, he can only barely catch it. The way, as she blinks, that her eyes shift to the side for not even a full second, without turning. The way her smile curls just the slightest bit more, without stopping from leaning down to whisper anew to their son.

When the next movement is so much faster and more apparent. A renewed squeal of delight from the boy, as Marian swung him up to standing. So tiny, it takes him a second, to look each way, blond hair allowed to grow just this side of too long swinging with the fast need, before he is running.

Tottering that beautiful, bouncing, weightless walk of children and colts only newly used to such locomotion, still realizing with each step the ground is there, toward his father through the field of flowers.

That even when he's dropped to a knee and gathered the still delightfully babbling little boy to him, he looks up to see Marian watching them. An arm curled around a knee she pulled up, black curls fallen over her shoulder, and the blue flowers still held, loosely in her hand. Smiling bright enough, at the sight of them together, to rival the whole field. The whole spring day.

No, this might not be the life that either of them thought they would lead, or end up with. But it is theirs, and it is, at the end all things, happier day to day, unending, than any expectation that had come before it, too.


End file.
